


Bad Idea

by nexparker



Series: Blood On Your Hands [9]
Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: HOPEFULLY THIS DOESNT SUCK, M/M, ahhhhhhh, doctor!yanchen, gang!awaken-f, gang!nex7, gangmember!zeren, gramarie, oaca, sorry i was gone for so long, yuehua - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nexparker/pseuds/nexparker
Summary: “I got a bad idea, yeah, I’ll call you over here to numb the pain…”





	Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

> Italics: Flashback 
> 
> Italics In Bold: Flashback within a Flashback
> 
> Word Count: 4.8k
> 
> Warnings: blood, swearing, kinda graphic descriptions of wounds, really inaccurate medicine, surgery, tropes, tooth-rotting fluff, slight mentions of drugs if you consider weed a drug lol (btw i don’t smoke so if this is wrong don’t yell at me), anxiety attacks

**_September 11th | QUANZHE:_ **

Quanzhe’s hands were shaking. He tried to tell himself it was from the cold, but he knew this wasn’t true. Trying to stop the movement, he clenched his fists into balls and shoved them into his pockets.

Turning down a series of alleyways, Quanzhe tried to avoid stepping on piles of garbage. Following the directions spat out by his phone GPS, he eventually came to a stop in front of a door behind a building. Pausing for a moment, he took in the appearance of his surroundings. The alleyway he stood in was dimly lit and hidden far from street view. If there was any point at which he would be murdered, this would probably be it.

The blonde took increasingly smaller steps as he got closer to the building that loomed before him. Heart beating loud in his chest, it took everything Quanzhe had in him to not turn and run in the opposite direction. He pushed Linong’s concerned expression out of his mind and kept moving forward. Putting his hand on what what undoubtedly the dirtiest doorknob in existence, Quanzhe took a deep breath.

“No turning back now.” He muttered, turning the knob and slowly pushing the door open. 

The door opened to a large room, also poorly lit by a few hanging lamps with flickering light bulbs. There were couches in one corner of the room, trying their best to provide a “homey” feeling, yet failing miserably. Along another wall, there were cabinets with something resembling a refrigerator. Neither of these areas were what stuck out to Quanzhe though. No, what stood out to him was the massive table off to the side of the room, illuminated by the only fully functioning lightbulb. His interest peaked, Quanzhe moved towards the table.

As he moved closer to it, he realized that there was a map of downtown on top of the table. It was crinkled in some places and yellowing in others, but more notably, someone had scrawled out different statements along different places on the map in red pen. Bending over, Quanzhe tried to read the chicken scratch writing on the thin paper, eyes following the lines that connected different statements. It had no meaning to him, but it sure seemed to mean a lot to the person who had written it.

Quanzhe’s exploration of the words was cut short by a voice sounding behind him.

“Are you where you’re supposed to be?” 

Whipping around, Quanzhe recognized the silhouette of a man standing in front of him, face just barely lit enough to see. His features were sharp and he had dirty brown hair and deep brown eyes that carried an emotion that Quanzhe wasn’t able to recognize. His figure was lean, yet muscular and he stood a few inches taller than Quanzhe. Those few inches were more than enough to intimidate the blonde.

Finally able to produce a coherent response, Quanzhe tired to explain himself.

“I-I’m looking for someone.” He stumbled over his words. 

The brunette folded his arms. “I’m sure whoever it is you’re looking for will appreciate your snooping,” he said, voice full of sarcasm.

“I-I didn’t mean to-” Quanzhe began to reply before he was cut off. 

“I know.”

Another silence fell over the two before the other man started to speak again.

“Jieqiong did warn me that you’d be here,” he began with a sigh. “Said you needed money. You’re what, 18? What could you possibly need that for?” he asked.

“17,” Quanzhe corrected. “A-and it’s not for what you think.” He said, trying to disguise the pain in his voice as contempt. It didn’t work very well.

“Glad to know Jieqiong didn’t send me another druggie,” the man rolled his eyes, igniting a spark of anger inside of Quanzhe. He wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the questioning of his morals, but whoever this guy was, he was grinding the blonde’s nerves. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can find it elsewhere-”

Quanzhe interrupted him, taking a step away from the table to where he was almost toe to toe with the other man.

“Listen, I don’t give a fuck what you think of me or my personality, but this money? It’s for my mom. She’s sick and I can’t make enough working two jobs to pay for her treatment. So, no. I don’t care. Now can you help me or not?!” He snapped, blood boiling. 

After a few seconds of silence, the man chuckled before looking Quanzhe up and down. He stuck his hand out for the blonde to shake.

“I’m impressed. I think I can help you after all.”

* * *

 

**_September 14th | XINCHUN:_ **

Xinchun didn’t mean to do it, honestly. Just a couple dollars here and there was nothing, honestly. Pocket change. It only ever became an issue when it started to be a couple hundred of dollars at a time rather than just enough to buy a pizza.

It started with the lottery; just a scratch ticket or two was nothing to bat an eye at. Then his friends took him to a bar one night, he may or may not have had a few too many drinks and suddenly he became involved in one of the biggest underground gambling schemes in the country. Whoops?

Even if it was a mistake, it was a very lucrative one. That wasn’t the bad part of it. No, no. No, the bad part was when Xinchun managed to con a very wealthy, very powerful businessman (more colloquially known as You Zhangjing) into throwing all his money away... right into Xinchun’s pocket. Unfortunately, the businessman happened to have some pretty powerful connections. Xinchun learned this after making a narrow escape from the alleyway casino that night.

Since then, he’s had to be careful. Any one person could be working for Zhangjing. This made things a lot less fun. Most say gambling isn’t a good hobby, but it’s taught Xinchun lots of things. For example and probably most importantly, it has taught Xinchun that there’s no point in pulling off a good con if there’s not a chance he’ll be caught for it.  

He didn’t completely hate living under the radar, though. All it meant was lying low for a while, no nights out, no huge parties. He didn’t want to turn his apartment into a beacon for finding him. Most importantly, it meant no deposits. The stuff he was a part of was already a shady operation, and Xinchun didn’t want to risk exposing that in any way. It would just end badly.

So, Xinchun had resorted to living what he called “the simple life”. Y’know, carrying around unfathomably large amounts of cash in his pockets unnecessarily, racking up quite the tab at a number of local bars, and avoiding eye contact with all human life other than the bartenders. 

Currently, the brunette sat at a bar playing with the ice in his nearly empty cup. He swung his feet that didn’t quite touch the ground back and forth, enjoying the quiet ambience of the nearly empty bar on a Thursday night. 

Xinchun had struck up something he couldn’t quite call a friendship with the bartender (it was more of a mutual understanding, really). Xinchun didn’t make things difficult for him, tipped him well, and in return the bartender wouldn’t keep track of the amount of drinks the brunette ordered. 

He was on his 2nd or 3rd drink, something around there, when the bell above the door used to signal someone’s arrival rang out through the bar. Looking up from his cup, Xinchun felt his stomach sink when he recognized who walked through the door. 

Jing Peiyao. Head of the Board of Directors for some super snazzy company, rich as shit, kind of a dick, and worst of all, You Zhangjing’s business partner. 

‘Shit.’ Xinchun swore in his head, ducking his head down a little bit. The room wasn’t very loud, due to the lack of patrons that night. This meant Xinchun could hear every footstep that Peiyao took, each step growing louder as he drew closer to the man sitting at the bar. 

Xinchun held his breath, hoping the businessman hadn’t recognized him. All hope was lost when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. 

“Ah, Huang Xinchun,” Peiyao greeted gruffly. “How fortunate am I to have run into you.” 

Xinchun’s shoulder burned where Peiyao’s hand rested atop it. 

Not replying, the brunette kept his head lowered as to not acknowledge the businessman’s presence. Maybe if he played dead he would leave.

Xinchun heard Peiyao scoff over his shoulder before moving closer to his face.

“I can’t believe that after all the things we’ve been through, I don’t even get a hello.” 

Xinchun bit his lip. He considered running as his eyes flicked over towards the door. After another brief moment of silence, the businessman pulled his face away from the brunette’s. 

“Fine then,” Peiyao grunted, plopping down on the chair next to Xinchun and waving to get the attention of the bartender. “I’ll have a beer. Put it on his tab, he’s loaded now.” Xinchun knew Peiyao gestured to him.

The bartender shot a look at the brunette meaning to ask if Xinchun knew Peiyao. Xinchun answered with a blank, yet tired stare.

Hesitantly, the bartender moved to get the drink for Peiyao, who now relaxed in the chair next to Xinchun. 

“It’s nice to have time to take a load off,” Peiyao sighed, feigning contentedness. “My pockets just feel so heavy nowadays.” 

Xinchun took another sip of his drink quietly, trying to decipher if the businessman was referring to his personal wealth or the very real possibility that he was packing heat. 

The bartender set the beer down on the countertop before casting one last glance at both Xinchun and Peiyao before moving to a place further down the bar. 

“It’s too bad you’re not in the mood to talk. I was hoping we could negotiate.” Peiyao took a sip of his drink.

Xinchun almost scoffed at this. Like that would ever happen.

Within a few minutes, Peiyao had finished his drink. He was visibly getting irritated with the fact that the brunette had yet to say a word to him, but Xinchun found it kind of hilarious. He wanted to see how long he could push this out until the businessman would leave.

Surely enough, it happened relatively quickly, but definitely not inconspicuously. 

Standing up from his chair suddenly, Peiyao shoved the seat forwards forcefully, making Xinchun jump slightly. The businessman shoved a finger in his face before speaking again. 

“You had your chance. Whatever comes next is your fault. Remember that when you’re dealing with me again.” He spat, glowering down at the brunette. When the brunette failed to reply once more, Peiyao stormed off, allowing Xinchun to release the breath he had been holding. 

Xinchun bit his lip, trying to determine if the threat was valid or not. 

‘It’s just Peiyao,’ he thought before pausing again and remembering his fears about the other carrying a gun on him. ‘Well, Peiyao with a gun. Not ideal, but still, not terrible.’

Xinchun didn’t move from his place for a while longer, contemplating his situation as he did at times when tipsy and out of ideas. His pondering was only interrupted by the presence of a figure next to him. 

Letting his eyes flick over to his left, he caught sight of a woman with sharp features, deep brown hair and a slim figure staring him down. 

“... Can I help you?” he asked. 

“Oh, so you can talk after all.” the woman said. Xinchun’s eyes narrowed at this, as if questioning her statement.

“No one in their sane mind allows someone else with a gun to bounce words off of them for 25 minutes.” she explained. 

‘So she noticed it too.’ Xinchun thought.

“Why is it any of your concern? Who even are you?” he asked. 

“Let’s keep it simple and say I have a savior complex. As for my name, I’m Zhou Jieqiong.” she stuck her hand forward. 

Xinchun stared at it for a moment before hesitantly shaking it. 

“Huang Xinchun.” He introduced himself. 

“I know who you are.” Jieqiong replied flatly. Xinchun couldn’t help but look surprised. All this hiding and apparently, he was still out in the open.

“I’ve had an eye on you for a while. No one out-gambles You Zhangjing and gets away with it.” 

“Then how did I?” Xinchun challenged Jieqiong’s question. 

“Simple answer: you haven’t. Jing Peiyao was the first of You’s henchmen to come your way and some won’t be as forgiving as he was.” she warned. 

Xinchun was just confused now. 

“How the hell do you know all this?” 

“I used to work for You Zhangjing.” Jieqiong deadpanned, speaking in a way that made if obvious that she did  **not** want to talk about it.

“Mmmm.” Xinchun hummed, connecting the pieces in his head. “Well, thanks, but I don’t think I need rescuing from Jing Peiyao and who ever comes after him.” Xinchun moved to get up but Jieqiong’s hand on his shoulder pushing him back down on the stool.

“Sure you don’t. Either way, take this,” she rolled her eyes before pulling a business card out of her pocket and handing it to him. Xinchun held it up to the light to see what it said; there was a phone number written in dark ink followed by three letters, ZZT. 

When Xinchun looked back up to ask Jieqiong what it meant, the raven haired woman was no where to be found.

* * *

 

**_September 17th | ZEREN:_ **

God, this was getting boring. Same old day, every day. Zeren felt like the main character he had seen in some American movie a few years back. The man was trapped reliving the same day, and no matter what he did, he would wake up and live the same day over again for the millionth time. 

Making observations, once his only way of passing time, was now incredibly bland to the brunette. The world sure was lonely when you had betrayed everyone who ever gave a damn about you. 

Zeren picked at the cracked leather of the truck he slept in, mulling over whether or not it was worth it to attempt to steal some food. His stomach growled, trying to give its’ input to the thinking process. Zeren ignored it. Paying attention to a problem meant you had to deal with it. 

The last beams of light began to leave the empty garage, the sky painted a mix of orange and red with a tint of blue on the horizon. It was too late for him to go anywhere now. Sleep called to him despite the fact that the brunette had barely moved all day. 

Zeren’s eyelids got heavier as the light disappeared from the sky. The deep blue hues in his vision pushed him further and further into darkness. He was just about to drift off when he heard a scream. 

He moved his head away from the seat, leaning forward in the chair slowly. Zeren’s eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, but there still wasn’t much he could see. 

‘Where is that even coming from?’ he thought. ‘No one is ever around this area anymore.’

Another scream came, bouncing off the concrete walls of the parking garage. 

There was no way Zeren could let it be now. Grabbing his knife out of the center console of the truck, he slipped the weapon in his pocket. Zeren moved to untangle the rest of his limbs from the car before exiting into the cool night air. 

The brunette moved through the streets relatively quickly, anxious to see what could be stirring up so much trouble in this rather unpopulated part of town. The scream sounded again, this time louder. Zeren ducked down an alley, trying to make note of markings and signs he could use to find his way back out if he got lost. The weapon in his pocket felt heavy against his skin as his heart started to race. 

As Zeren moved closer and closer to where the noise originated from, he began to make out words in the cries. The voice was young sounding and the brunette could tell it was a guy. There was also a mix of grunting that led Zeren to believe that there would be trouble when he found the source of the noise.

“Let go of me!” the shout echoed off the bricks of the alleyway. The noise sounded extremely close now, and with another corner turned, Zeren had found where the noise was coming from. 

There were three men in total, well, boys more like. One of them, the one with dirty blonde hair, had his arms pinned behind his back by another while the last kicked him in the chest. The blonde was the one screaming and grunting in pain whenever he received another kick to the ribs. 

They had yet to notice Zeren, who stood watching the scene play out in front of him for another few seconds. The blonde looked younger than the other two, maybe around 16. He also had a gash above his right eyebrow and his nose was bleeding. He was rather limp in the older boy’s arms, but he was held onto tightly. Zeren didn’t know what came over him or when he had somehow adopted a savior complex, but next thing he knew, he was jogging over to them. 

“Hey!” He yelled. Right before the blonde was about to receive another blow, Zeren pushed him out of the way, making him land on the ground.

“What the fuck, dude?” the thug holding the blonde whined. 

“I might just ask you the same fucking thing,” Zeren retorted, panting. “What are you doing to him?” he asked, nodding his head at the blonde. 

“It’s none of your business.” the one on the ground spat, pushing himself to a standing position, clearly fuming. 

“Whatever it is, he’s just a kid. What could this punk possibly have done to deserve this, eh?” Zeren asked with an accusatory tone.

“I said, it’s none of your business!” the guy repeated.

Zeren felt the knife in his pocket start to dig into his skin. 

“Look, you already got a few blows in, the kid clearly can’t even hold himself up. Let him go.” Zeren said, looking between the two thugs. 

“Let him go? Or what?” The one holding the younger kid sneered, not letting his grip on the blonde become any looser. 

“ **Let him go,”** Zeren repeated, this time with more malice in his tone. “ **or you’ll have to go through me.”**

* * *

 

**_MINGHAO:_ **

This was not how this was supposed to go. Couldn’t a guy go out to vandalize some alleyways by himself anymore? Apparently not. Minghao understood now why Zhengting had a thing against OACA now, they were absolute assholes.

Minghao’s head pounded as he tried to hold himself up. Zimo had finally let go of his torso and now that he was standing on his own, managing to not collapse was getting more difficult. His chest burned and he felt like he couldn’t get any oxygen into his lungs, like someone was sitting on top of him. It really didn’t help the dizziness he was already experiencing. The blonde could also feel a goose egg forming on his left temple from where he took a blow from Zuo Ye. 

Streaks of dark brown hair and tan skin swam through Minghao’s vision; the guy who had come to his defense was luckily quite agile, but not quick enough to avoid taking a hit to the nose. There was a loud crack, at which Minghao cringed. The man managed to stay on his feet somehow, quickly recoiling in pain and holding his hand up to his nose. The man held his fingers up to his nose before pulling it away to see blood on his hand. 

Minghao blinked a few times, placing his hand against the alleyway wall, blinking heavily as his vision moved in and out of focus. When his eyes refocused, the brunette had a knife in his hand and was advancing towards Zimo. Zuo Ye stood clumsily a few feet behind him, disoriented after being kicked in the head a few moments ago. Minghao had managed to slide down the brick wall he had been leaning against for support, wheezing as to try to get some air to enter his lungs. 

The man had soon pushed Zimo against a wall, holding his knife to the other’s throat, nose still gushing blood. The OACA member had a busted lip and the beginnings of what looked like a black eye. Minghao watched from the dirty ground as the brunette hissed something to Zimo’s that the blonde couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, it was enough to make the raven haired man recoil against the bricks before Minghao’s defender stepped back. When he did so, Zimo was panting. He looked over at Zuo Ye, who was still on the ground, head bleeding from the kick he had received, before quickly moving to pick up his friend from the ground. Zimo hoisted his friend’s arm over his shoulder before helping him hobble away. 

The brunette who had come to Minghao’s defense watched them leave before quickly wiping his nose with his sleeve and moving over to the blonde who was giving all his effort to stay conscious. He bent down to Minghao, trying to assess his injuries. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, wiping at his nose again. 

Minghao tried to nod, but it really came out as an uncoordinated movement accompanied with a low moan. The man’s face moved closer to his, attempting to examine the bump on Minghao’s temple. When fingers brushed the blonde hair away from his temple, Minghao flinched in pain. The hand moved away from his face and the brunette leaned back.

“I’m Zeren.” The man introduced himself, clearly trying to figure out what to do next.

“Minghao.” the blonde choked out in response. Typically, Minghao wouldn’t offer up his real name or any personal information to someone he hadn’t met before, but seeing as how a complete stranger had just quite possibly saved his life, he wasn’t in the mood to be secretive.

“Can you stand up?”

“I don’t know. ‘M really dizzy.” The blonde hummed. 

Zeren sighed. “Who the fuck would do this to a kid?” Minghao heard him grumble. 

“Well, we gotta get out of here. Can I help you try to stand?” Zeren looked down both ways of the alleyway. To this, Minghao gathered his thoughts and nodded. Zeren stood back up before extending his hands down to him. Minghao grabbed hold, trying to ignore the blood staining the brunette’s hands and braced himself to be pulled up. 

Zeren pulled the younger up, ignoring the groans he was letting slip. Zeren attempted to wrap Minghao’s arm around his shoulders, not unlike what Zimo did for Zuo Ye, but Minghao immediately yelped in pain and crumpled over slightly, almost taking Zeren down with him. 

“Are you okay?!” Zeren asks again, perplexed as to what he could have done to further injure the blonde. 

“It’s my chest,” Minghao panted. “It hurts.” 

Zeren bit his lip, unsure of what to do. “Shit...” he looked around breathlessly, still trying to hold onto Minghao. 

Minghao knew that even with the amount of shit he would get from Zhengting, that he needed to get back to base. He just wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to manage that if he felt like he was going to black out every time he shifted his torso. 

“We need to get inside somewhere. It’s getting too dark to see anything.” Zeren pointed out. 

“I know a place,” Minghao wheezed. “It’s not far.”

“Where?” Zeren asked.

* * *

 

**_ZEREN:_ **

It was kind of obvious as to what was coming Zeren’s way next. However, he wasn’t thrilled to be pressed up against a wall with a knife pressed to his throat after everything he had just been through. His nose hurt like shit, his body was sore and worst of all, the only place he had to go back to was a broken down car in an abandoned parking garage. 

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain to me who the hell you think you are before you’re worse off than him.” Zhengting threatened, cocking his head towards Minghao.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Zeren thought. ‘Not what I wanna hear.’ 

Zeren knew it probably wasn’t smart talking back to the leader of what seemed to be a gang, but at this point, he didn’t care. 

“I saved his life just now. What a way to repay me!” Zeren spat. “I’ve already got a broken nose because of this kid so why not add on to the fun?” he said almost cockily, eyes glancing down at the knife held dangerously close to his neck.

Zhengting’s eyes narrowed. Minghao finally broke the silence with a wheeze, making every pair of eyes in the room snap to the youngest, who was being held up and comforted by Quanzhe.

“Ge, it’s true. He didn’t do this to me.” Minghao managed to squeeze out between shallow breaths.

The poor kid was somehow still standing. Zeren was sure he had at least some bruised, if not broken ribs. Zeren tried not to think about what would have happened had he not showed up. Zhengting turned back to Zeren, pulling the knife away but not releasing his grip, waiting for further explanation.

“It was someone from OACA,” Zeren said. “They were down by 3rd street. I saw them giving him a hard time and he very clearly wasn’t going to make it out of it situation alone. I figured you might want him alive and out of the hospital.”

The air was thick with tension for another moment, Zhengting looking Zeren up and down before finally letting go.

“I hope you know who you just got yourself involved with.” Zhengting said, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. 

Zeren rolled his eyes, wiping at his nose again. 

“Is he always like that?” the brunette asked the other members of the gang.

The rest of the members turned back towards the bloodied man, almost studying him for a moment. After a couple of seconds, they began moving. Another blonde and a dark haired member worked together to get Minghao to lie down on a sofa that happened to be conveniently placed in the large room they were in.

“Only when he’s showing off.” A tall member snorted, moving closer to Zeren. 

He stuck his hand out in greeting to the brunette. 

“I’m Wenjun,” he explained. “I get to be in charge when Zhengting-ge has his moments.”

Zeren moved to shake his hand, but quickly realized that wasn’t a great ideas considering they were still covered with his own blood. So he left his arms to hang by his sides. 

“Zeren.” He simply replied. 

Wenjun nodded. “I know who you are,” he chuckled. “I have a friend who works within the black market. He’s connected to Han Mubo, just like you, however, he wasn’t stupid enough to be caught for it.”

Zeren wasn’t sure if that remark was meant to sting, but he still bristled at it. 

Before Wenjun could add anything else, another member appeared from behind the second in command.

“What Wenjun means to say, is that you have a reputation,” he explained. “One that could be advantageous to us if you were interested in a bit of a trade. I’m Xinchun, by the way. Sorry he put it so bluntly,” the member poorly hid the fact that he was pointing at Wenjun while saying “The smart ones tend to lack social capabilities.”

Wenjun gave the sandy haired member a smack to the arm for it. 

“A trade?” Zeren asked, somewhat weirded out by the mechanics of their relationships. 

“A trade,” Wenjun confirmed. “You fight and work with us, and in turn, we give you a place to live, food and protection.” 

Before Zeren could speak again, Xinchun cut him off. 

“I know that you’re probably thinking ‘I can protect myself just fine’,” He began. “But even you can’t hide from the rest of OACA forever. Han Mubo has henchmen, two of which you met tonight. However, there are more and I can’t guarantee you’ll be so fortunate to have the same outcome.” 

Zeren flinched at the name of his former friend. 

“How do I know I can trust any of you?” Zeren questioned. 

This question took a bit of pause and a few stolen glances between the two. 

**“That’s a risk you’ll just have to take, I guess.”**

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooooo. I’m Back. Again. Sorry this took literally like 4 months. But I should have more time to write now! So that’s exciting. 
> 
> I hope to get back to the present day within the next chapter- I just felt like not explaining any of their backstories made it a little hazy. Anyways, Thank you for your continued support!


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